[He's right, she knows he is... she was protecting herself and Allen and many others but the guilt's still there. She's supposed to preserve life, not destroy it. For now, she pushes that guilt down to focus on practicalities, gesturing for him to follow her as she talks.]
The people here... we can't expect them to react to a situation the same way we would. We've been pulled from all sorts of different universes and we're only a fleet in the sense that we are a group of ships who are traveling together. Even then it's by force: where the Marsiva goes, we go. There is little to no coordination between ships. I'm fortunate in that my crew works together well but ... containment is simply out of the question. People are even talking about refurbishing the ship and taking it with us. Convincing them not to do that will be hard enough, much less getting them to stay off of the ship altogether.
No, whatever we do, we'll have to do without expecting much support from the rest of the fleet. Or most of it anyway. My crew and several friends on other ships I'm sure will be willing to help.
[They reach the sickbay of the Blue Fish and she steps in. Though the room is very organized and clean, the evidence of her work can be seen everywhere: fungal samples in stacked petri dishes by the microscope, bottles of various chemicals, scribbled notes tacked to the wall, and carefully labeled insectoid body parts (courtesy of Hawke) floating in formaldehyde.
The first thing she picks up is her tricorder, which she hands to Bashir.]
Most of my raw data is on here. I haven't had the time to transfer it to the ship's computers yet.
no subject
The people here... we can't expect them to react to a situation the same way we would. We've been pulled from all sorts of different universes and we're only a fleet in the sense that we are a group of ships who are traveling together. Even then it's by force: where the Marsiva goes, we go. There is little to no coordination between ships. I'm fortunate in that my crew works together well but ... containment is simply out of the question. People are even talking about refurbishing the ship and taking it with us. Convincing them not to do that will be hard enough, much less getting them to stay off of the ship altogether.
No, whatever we do, we'll have to do without expecting much support from the rest of the fleet. Or most of it anyway. My crew and several friends on other ships I'm sure will be willing to help.
[They reach the sickbay of the Blue Fish and she steps in. Though the room is very organized and clean, the evidence of her work can be seen everywhere: fungal samples in stacked petri dishes by the microscope, bottles of various chemicals, scribbled notes tacked to the wall, and carefully labeled insectoid body parts (courtesy of Hawke) floating in formaldehyde.
The first thing she picks up is her tricorder, which she hands to Bashir.]
Most of my raw data is on here. I haven't had the time to transfer it to the ship's computers yet.